Deathbeds
by hynotistic
Summary: Cordelia Banks is a smart thinker, she knew what she wanted and it didn't matter what it would cost. Even if it meant to take someone's life away, she still would do it. She just wasn't ready for one deal - the deal to kill Thomas Wayne to escalate so quickly and all of the sudden Cordelia has to think fast just so no one knows who she really is [ season one to five, nygma x oc ]


**CHAPTER ONE**

** _error: fucks not found_**

* * *

"You, idiots!"

She slams her palms against the wooden surface of her table and stands up, both man visibly jump at the sudden movements "How many times do I have to tell you both. You do not work for Falcone, you work for me. " She makes her way around the table and takes slow steps towards them, her arms crossing over her chest and fingers curled and locked into fists. Sharing a look, both guys decide to take a step back for their own safety, " The only reason you breathe is because of me. You have food on your tables because of me. You both are not dead because of me. "

"We're so sorry, Miss Cordelia." The tallest goon apologises. His head tugged down, playing with the ends of his worn out hat. Hair shielding his face and the large scar on his left cheekbone.

She arches a brow, turning attention to her goon. She tried to stay calm as long as possible but just looking at her goons made her blood boil. She knew, to never trust them on spying on Maroni. Just looking at both men made her regret ever letting those idiots playing double agents.

The redhead's focus was taking down Maroni but that was going downhill. . . apparently. If there was one thing she learned from today, is to not trust anyone to do her dirty work. They were not capable of doing anything like asked. They just keep failing her and there we no winning teams. One of them just had to freak out and spill the beans (thankfully leaving her name out of it). With one checkmate out, two were left standing but bound to fall.

Sighing, the woman rubs her forehead out of frustration, "What do you want me to do with you rats? I can't just leave you two without some pain, killing you both won't do good for any of us. . . Unless—" she pauses, holding a finger out in front of her, a wicked smirk forming on her glossed lips,

"You know what," She shakes her head, dismissing both of them," You two can go, be free my birds."

They stood still. They _knew. They knew her. _She never lets people go away without giving them what they deserved. Her letting them go free was more dreadful than actually knowing the cause they're paying. Both goons make another eye contact, well aware of both of their thought.

"Go!" Cordelia abruptly yells, making both men jump and practically run away from her office. As the doors shut closed, she sighs in frustration and hangs her head back. _Idiots, _she thinks to herself.

She didn't need them, she doesn't need anyone. She can handle this herself, that, however, includes getting her hands dirty — and she absolutely hates that. Sure, Zsasz can land her a hand and do it for her but Maroni probably knew Zsasz and it wouldn't really be that easy. She would give it to him, Maroni was a smart man, if not, one of the smartest and dangerous men in Gotham. That's why she needs to think like a fox. Out think every step of his and then, maybe she has one Crime Boss down.

As of Victor Zsasz was reading her mind, he asks, "Would you like me to do the honors?"

She holds her hand out, shaking her head and eyes never leaving the closed doors, "In other circumstances, I wouldn't mind but I need them as an exchange."

"You sure?" He questions her, holding his gun out for more gesture. When he heard her hum in response as she stands up to overlook the view from the outside window, he shrugs shoulders and puts his gun back down in the position he was in before. His hands crossed in front of him and standing still.

She raises her brow at him, a little smile playing on her lips in amusement. He really did fascinate her — if that's how she wanted to put it. She didn't know how he became a man he is today, she wasn't going to question him either. Zsasz liked to take orders from people that were higher than him, she didn't really blame him. He was getting paid to protect and kill (which in one sentence didn't quite make any sense). Either way, she was glad, Carmine Falcone found him and was kind enough to let her borrow him for few weeks or even months if she's that lucky. Cordelia could never do the job that Zsasz does, she hates taking orders from anyone, even if they don't want any harm. She likes to be in control of herself and what she has. So yes, seeing the man in her medium-average unfinished office not complaining about orders did fascinate her.

As of her office, it still needed some touch, after all, it still wasn't the way she wanted it to be. Her nightclub "_Phantom_" was nowhere near to finish and the opening night was right around the corner, so not only she needs to worry about Maroni, her club was asking her for attention as well. As she grabbed a clipboard with a pen from her table, she heard a doorknob twisting. Victor Zsasz didn't skip a beat as he raised his gun and moved in front of her.

The signal from one of her club members. — Three knocks and a doorknob twist. This one had no signal.

"Yes?", She says as she turns around and is faced with a man whom she has never seen before. "How can I help you?"

The man in front of her was way older than her, and the way he was holding himself, sure made her think he wasn't mundane after all. His shoulders were slouched back, his head held high and a hat's shadow covering parts of his face. He came with a purpose and if he knew her location that meant he was from a lowlife. The public didn't have any details of Cordelia's whereabouts but she knew there were whispers flying around the downtown of Gotham about her nightclub. — Which the man in front of her has heard about.

"I came here to see Cordelia Banks." He announces in a raspy voice.

She sits down on the chair and tilts her head, observing the stranger, "And what would you want from her?"

"To make a deal."

It suddenly perks her attention as she rolls her chair closer to the table, resting her elbows on the surface and gestures at the empty chair opposite of her with one of her hands. Indirection to sit down. The stranger looks down at the chair like it was a threat or it will explode – trust her, if she wanted something to explode or make someone turn into dust, she wouldn't even be there to begin with.

The man finally takes a seat, "Word's on the street, you can get dirty work done for someone else and not get caught."

Her frown uplifts to a charming smile, showing off her teeth. To her it was a compliment, but for others not so much. _Eh_, she didn't really care about that, as long as people talked about her and her _art_, she was happy. "Is that what people really know me for?" she wonders, he nods. Cordelia leans back in her chair with a confident smile, very pleased with herself. "Who you want to kill?"

"Thomas Wayne."

She laughs, " Yeah, no."

"I thought you were meant to kill whoever people ask you to kill." He notes in disgust, disappointment clear in his tone.

She looks at him like he's insane (_Oh_, _the irony_.) Waynes were always off the list, the amount of times people have come to her for the Waynes is amusing. All of them have bad blood, mostly with Thomas Wayne. No surprise there. "Let me make this clear, you might be older and your brain cells might not function as much but The Waynes have always been off limits. You're not the first, nor you will be the last. To make it clear, no one can or will kill any of them. Am I making myself clear?"

He doesn't budge, nor respond. "Five hundred thousand dollars."

She starts laughing in disbelief, "Please, for that type of money you kill an ordinary person, not a rich one."

"Million." He adds up.

She blinks at him, frowning. Does he know who the Waynes are? Or how worthy they are? "Do I look that stupid to you?" She asks.

"Two million! That's all I got right now." He raises from his chair with arms wide and taking a dangerous step closer to her. Victor Zsasz steps forward with his gun raised up. The stranger glances at him and takes a step back, not sitting back down – _How impolite_. She looks at Victor and nods, letting him know it was okay and she was handling everything. He looks at her and then back at the stranger, before putting his gun down.

Blinking at him with a forced smile she glances at the suitcase he brought with him, "Two million and in that suitcase? Don't make me look like a fool."

He doesn't respond, she raises her brow at him, waiting for an answer. For a minute or so no one said a word. The stranger seemed to be in his thoughts a lot. After a moment he finally speaks up again, "Five million along with one of my properties." Cordelia doesn't react. Her expression the same as before. He throws his hands in the air and turns around, "Fine. I'll just find someone else. Maybe Fish Mooney can help me."

He picks up his suitcase and starts to make his way out. Cordelia was considering. She was considering a lot. Part of her wanted to make the deal but part of her didn't. It was the mentioning of Mooney that triggered it.

"Wait!" She closes her eyes and grits her teeth together. The strange man doesn't turn but stands still, waiting for the woman to continue,

"What did you say about the deal, again?"

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**[ ****author's note**** ]**

gotham doesn't really have a timeline set for seasons, and it's pretty much timeless, so working out what year it is, is hard. Even though gotham is timeless, i couldn't really tell what year cordelia would have been born in but in my head

cordelia is 25 years old — soon to turn 26 around season 1.

this chapter was so bad and im sorry! i'll try better next time.


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